


Breathing In Snowflakes

by wreckingtomlinson



Series: When All Of The Snow Falls [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Winter fun, fluffy and plotless but I don't really care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckingtomlinson/pseuds/wreckingtomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first snow of the season and Louis wants to make a snowman, but Harry's got other ideas.</p><p>Title from "The A Team" by Ed Sheeran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathing In Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired partly by walking back to my room at 5 AM and finding snow flying by the window, and partly from a conversation with my friends Emily and Tesa. Because there will never be enough cuddly cutesy winter Larry in the world.
> 
> Thanks for redstreet for translating this into Russian, which you can read [here](http://ficbook.net/readfic/1492840)!

Louis woke up tangled in the duvet with his face pressed into the pillow. He kicked the covers off and immediately regretted it—sleeping naked in the winter in a house where the heat wasn’t always working right wasn’t really the smartest of ideas. 

He was alone in the bed, but the left side was still warm. Not wanting to get up just yet, he curled into the indentation on the other side of the bed, pulling the covers up over his face. 

Louis wasn’t sure if he fell back asleep or not, but the next time he opened his eyes, the bedroom door was open and Harry was poking his head in and calling softly, “Lou, wake up. I’ve got breakfast.” 

“Hmm?” Louis stretched his arms out above his head and yawned. 

“Said, I made breakfast. And look out the window,” Harry said with a smile. “Come on, it’s on the table already.” 

Stifling another yawn, Louis rolled out of bed—literally rolled and fell on the floor before scrambling to his feet—and pulled on a pair of trackies lying on the floor without looking to see whose they were. Not that it mattered anyway. He shuffled over to the bedroom window and pushed the curtain aside. 

Overnight, the back garden had been transformed from a dead, barren plot of earth into a wintery dreamscape. Thick waves of glittering white powder blanketed the grass, the trees, the outdoor tables. “Snow!” he cheered, pulling one of Harry’s jumpers over his head and tripping over himself in his dash to the kitchen. “Snow, Haz!” 

“I know.” Harry chuckled. He was already sitting down but hadn’t started to eat yet. The table was set with two plates laden with scrambled eggs and toast that smelled so good, Louis’ mouth was watering by the time he sat down. Harry had also made him tea, which made Louis grin. 

“Thanks, love.” He pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek before diving into his breakfast. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“So, then,” Louis said fifteen minutes later as he helped rinse off the plates and put them in the dishwasher, “what d’you say we properly celebrate the first snow of the season?” 

“And how would we do that?” Harry asked. 

Louis laughed. “Do you want to build a snowman?” 

A half hour later, Louis was sitting on the sofa by the door zipping up his snow boots while he waited for Harry to find his coat. “Need help, Haz?” Louis asked, glancing toward the slightly open bedroom door. 

“Aha, found it!” Harry’s exclamation was followed by the clatter of metal on wood. “Oops.” 

Shaking his head, Louis ventured back to the bedroom. Harry was standing by the closet, his coat in his hand and wire hangers on the floor all around him. “I knocked a bunch of stuff over,” Harry said sheepishly. 

“Come on, you big oaf.” Louis laughed, grabbed Harry’s hand, and pulled him out the front door. 

The cold air hit Louis in the face like a soft pillow. For a minute he just stood on the front steps, watching his breath escape his lips in clouds. “Hey, Haz, look, I’m a dragon!” Louis exhaled sharply through his nose, making his breath shoot out in jets, and laughed. 

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “I swear, Lou, you’re such a kid.” 

“You like it.” Louis elbowed Harry and waded out into the snow, his feet sinking into the powder easily. It had to have snowed at least an inch and a half, easily. “Let’s get this snowman going!” Louis knelt in the snow and started shaping a handful of snow into a sphere. He heard crunching to his right and figured Harry was doing the same. 

Until suddenly his face was wet and freezing water was dripping down his neck. 

“And you call _me_ a kid?” Louis shook his head in mock disapproval, glaring at Harry and his empty hands. “Oh, it’s on, Styles.” 

Harry just beamed, his cheeks already rosy from the cold, and bent down to form another snowball. Louis knew he had to act quickly. Hands shaking, he lobbed the ball that he’d meant to start the snowman with at Harry and then took off across the lawn, almost reaching the back garden when another snowball went flying past his head. 

“Hah! You missed!” he shouted gleefully, reaching for another handful of snow and packing it into a ball. He backpedaled, keeping a wary eye on Harry. 

Harry came round the corner and Louis darted behind a tree, laughing as he watched Harry look around in confusion. “Lou?” Harry called. 

With a sharp giggle, Louis threw his snowball and hit Harry square in the chest. “Got you!” he proclaimed, already starting to form another. 

Harry’s gaze snapped to Louis’ hiding place. “You!” Laughing, Harry sprinted toward Louis, dodging Louis’ second snowball easily. 

“No!” Deciding he didn’t have enough time to make another snowball, Louis turned on his heel intending to take off, but he slipped in the snow and fell flat on his back just as Harry ran full-speed into him. 

It was all limbs and snow and hot breath for a second, and once they stilled Harry was lying on top of Louis, their faces inches apart. Louis laughed, breathless from the fall, and let himself stare into Harry’s deep green eyes. God, he looked so lovely like that; eyes bright, lips pink, dark curls flecked with the white snow. 

“Do you surrender?” Harry smirked. 

Louis pretended to think. “Well, if you want to get technical, I hit you once and you hit me once, so we’re at a draw, Styles.” 

Harry considered this. Suddenly, Louis was spitting snow out of his mouth and wiping it from his eyes. “Hey, no fair!” Louis protested. 

Harry grinned back cheekily. “Now I’ve hit you twice and I win. You can surrender now.” 

“Hardly fair.” Louis shook the rest of the snow off of his face, feeling the numbness starting to set in. Then, he got an idea and changed tactics. “Haz, if I surrender now, will you make me another cuppa when we get back inside?” he asked sweetly with a coy smile and flutter of his eyelashes. 

In answer, Harry planted his hands into the snow on either side of Louis’ head and kissed him deeply. Louis hummed into Harry’s mouth, bringing his hands down to Harry’s waist and pulling him close as he let Harry’s tongue dance with his own. 

When Harry pulled back, his lips were an even deeper shade of pink. “Whatever you want, Lou,” he said with a fond smile. “Ready to go in, then?” 

“Sure.” Louis wriggled out from underneath Harry and jumped to his feet, brushing the snow out of his fringe. “Harry, you’re full of snow,” he told Harry with a giggle, poking at Harry’s coat as they walked back to the front door. 

“And whose fault is that, Louis?” Harry shot back, arching an eyebrow. 

Louis pulled a scandalized expression. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve surrendered.” 

Harry knocked the snow off of his boots before stepping back into the house and hanging his snow-covered coat up by the door. Louis did the same and then jumped onto the sofa, wrapping himself in blankets. 

“Want to watch a film?” Harry asked, putting the kettle on the stove. 

“Let’s watch a Christmas movie,” Louis said, turning the television on and dragging his blanket cocoon over to the DVD cabinet. “What do you think, Haz?” 

“You pick, Lou.” 

“Uh…” Louis picked through the cases on the shelf before settling on one. “Okay, then. What about—” 

Harry cut him off, though, smiling and saying, “No, surprise me. Put it in and we’ll start it when the tea’s ready.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Louis was curled into Harry’s side on the sofa with “White Christmas” in the DVD player, the blankets still wrapped around his small frame, and his hands around a freshly brewed cup of Yorkshire tea, courtesy of Harry. Harry hit Play on the DVD and hugged Louis close with his other arm.

Louis hummed happily and snuggled into Harry, resting his head on Harry’s chest. “Hey,” Louis said, almost lazily, “we never did make that snowman. It’s your fault.” He poked Harry’s chest and glanced up at him. 

Harry smiled down at him. “Later, maybe.” 

“Okay.” Louis grinned, content, and tucked his feet under the blankets. If he turned his head just the right way, he could hear Harry’s heartbeat, even through the thick woolen jumper Harry was wearing. So he did, and let the familiar sound put him in the hazy, fuzzy state that always seemed to happen when he was around Harry. “Love you, Hazza.” The words slipped smoothly from Louis’ still partially numb lips like ice. 

Louis felt one of Harry’s large hands ruffling his fringe, and then Harry was kissing his temple. “Love you, too, Lou,” he whispered as their hands somehow found each other among all the blankets and their fingers intertwined.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And happy (early) holidays :) xx


End file.
